


spaghetti code

by vanitaslaughing



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Not Serious, elidibus violates osha terms, op has no idea how coding works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 21:48:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20316526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanitaslaughing/pseuds/vanitaslaughing
Summary: “You’re just going to watch this blow up, aren’t you.”“You know me.”“Ugh. This is going to backfire. This is so going to backfire, Hades, mark my words.”





	spaghetti code

**Author's Note:**

> "i will never write an ardyns horns-esque fic again in my life"
> 
> blatant lies,  
don't look at me.

“No.”

Their voice was so quiet that it might as well have been a gunshot ringing through the room—he had seen it coming from a mile away at this point, but everyone else in this room had been so blissfully unaware that he had made it a game. How long until either the entire rest snapped, or they snapped?

It was them in the end, mask askew and lips quivering as they stood up.

“I’m done trying to wrangle this for you. This is a disaster in the making, Elidibus, and you’ve ignored me time and time again—I’m through. Done. Screw your resignation letters and what-not, I’m leaving.”

Before Elidibus could even say anything, they turned around and left. The other twelve watched them leave; Emet-Selch with an amused smile on his face and some others with horror, anger. Confusion. When the door clicked shut, all eyes turned back to Elidibus.

Emet-Selch merely leaned back in his office chair. Yep, they were completely and utterly fucked without Persephone. Persephone, who had at least more than a vague idea what they were doing, who knew how to wrangle Elidibus’ frankly insane at times requests when it came to this network. Emet-Selch had half a mind to also stand up and cause a ruckus and hurry after Persephone, but he did not. This was going to end in utter disaster, and he loved watching things break.

The others clearly did not. Lahabrea and Igeyorhm had their heads stuck together to whisper, Mitron looked like he had bitten into a lemon, Pashtarot shrunk visibly into the chair. Elidibus had turned the most beautiful shade of angry red that Emet-Selch had ever seen and truth be told he was mad that Persephone had managed that without even trying. Oh well.

Much to his horror however, Elidibus started a sentence that did indeed sound like they were going to postpone it—but then Nabriales spoke up. Said that this would work just fine without Persephone, they weren’t even doing that much.

And thus they decided that the Zodiark system would get finished with what code they already had and what else they would need.

Oh, heavens above.

The next few hours were interrupted by exactly one thing. Emet-Selch had frankly not been doing a damned thing on that damned machine; the lines all blurred together. It was Igeorhm’s almost hysteric voice that broke through the haze he was in.

“I’m telling you, this doesn’t make sense! The code’s flawless!”

“Explain, then, why is it _beeping hundreds of errors at us?”_

Igeyorhm threw her hands up and shook her head. “I don’t know, man! You’ve kept us in here for ten hours! I need a break!”

He could almost hear the berating nonsense about breaks only being good when something had been managed, et cetera. Emet-Selch rolled his eyes as the tirade started, as Igeyorhm started screaming, as Lahabrea joined in to defend her.

Eventually he got up.

All eyes on him.

He shrugged.

“Sorry, I don’t get paid overtime so I’m not working overtime. Promised Hythlodaeus I’d take him to that bookstore on the other end of the city anyway. So, see you tomorrow.”

The others took that as permission to leave. Ah, he loved that look of utter vile hatred that Elidibus shot him.

* * *

“He’s going to skin you, wring your guts out on the computers, make bone accessories for the rest of the team, and bake the rest into meat pie.”

“Oh, he’s gonna have to fight to get a piece of me. Have you seen Persephone?”

A slight shake of the head. “They stomped into their apartment, slammed the door shut, locked the door and told me I’d know where to stick my grapes. So either Elidibus will _end_ you for leaving, or Persephone will literally tear you apart with their bare hands. Rocks, hard places, you seem to wedge yourself between them rather well, Hades.”

“That’s why I have you.”

“Oh no. No, no, no.” This was the first time he’d seen Hythlodaeus shake his head so furiously his mask almost went flying. “I don’t want any part in this. The last time I tried to mediate between Elidibus, you and Persephone I nearly got killed. I’m _not_ taking that gamble again.”

“Fair enough.”

“You’re just going to watch this blow up, aren’t you.”

“You know me.”

“Ugh. This is going to backfire. This is _so_ going to backfire, Hades, mark my words.”

* * *

He opened the door and dodged the mouse thrown at him. “And a wonderful good morning to you too, chief.”

He left it at that, and walked past a fuming Elidibus with a purposefully carefree swaggering jaunt. Hythlodaeus had begged him not to provoke the man or try talking to Persephone, but he had done neither. Emet-Selch was truly just here to see his blow up. Persephone was the only person with half a brain in this place, and they had very diligently made certain that nothing would blow up. Emet-Selch gave this thing a week before all thirteen of them went insane and killed each other; he made a mental note to ensure that his belongings did not go to his living relatives and instead of his two best friends.

The rest eventually arrived, but before they were able to start over… Elidibus cleared his throat.

“No one’s leaving until we fix the mess Igeyorhm made yesterday.”

If looks could kill, he’d be dead. Twelve times over. Alas, Elidibus did not drop dead.

Unfortunately that meant they would have to work.

And by the gods, Igeyorhm had made a right mess of things. She was excellent as long as she wasn’t stressed or desperate, and this entire mess reeked of her getting stressed to high hell and back. Emet-Selch saw a few things that Persephone had taught her in there, all muddled up because the teacher was no longer there to supervise the student.

Just fantastic. He had half a mind to getup and tell Elidibus that this was a fuck-up on a scale that was almost impressive.

* * *

“She forgot to close a bracket. That was it.”

“That’s why he kept you in there for… sixteen hours?”

“Yep. Nabriales nearly started crying after seven. Have you seen Persephone today?”

“No, I have not.”

“Strange.”

* * *

“I can’t take this anymore!”

All heads turned. Normally Lohgrif was the most quiet of them all, but this sudden outburst was unheard of.

“Emet-Selch! Get Persephone back this instant!” Hells, he had never seen the man turn red like this before.

“No,” snarled Elidibus. “Don’t you dare.”

“Please! I’m begging you! Whatever you normally do to get them to do what you want, _do it_. I’ll pay, I’ll buy you whatever the absolute hell you need—“

Emet-Selch made direct eye contact with first Elidibus, then Lohgrif—a wry smile that might have been more of a sneer spread across his face before he said the next words. “You could pay for a locksmith. Or pick the damned thing yourself. But I haven’t seen them since they stormed out of here. Unless you want to pay for—“

Lahabrea slammed his hands on his desk. “Continue and I’ll have your tongue sent to Persephone on a string.”

“They’d be into that.”

“Shut the _fuck_ up, Emet-Selch.”

* * *

Something smelled vaguely burnt. He had about a second before he jumped to his feet, out of his chair, and took a step backwards from the computer. Yep. Something was smoking here. And it was not the resident chain-smoker Nabriales. No. It was a darned cable.

Just his luck. Just his lousy, lousy luck. Five days, they were no closer to a solution for half the issues that had cropped up, they were supposed to finish it in two days, and Emet-Selch had not seen Persephone since they so majestically marched out of here. He had even considered bribing Hythlodaeus to break into their apartment, but unfortunately for him, Hythlodaeus remained as stalwart as a fucking mountain. Which, of course, meant that he respected Persephone’s privacy above all else, and he kept saying that it had been so long since they last took a proper break. He couldn’t really argue against that; Hythlodaeus was right.

Not a single person in this forsaken office even seemed to notice that he had stood up.

At least he thought so until very suddenly, very unexpectedly, he felt hands on his shoulders. When the hell had Elidibus learned how to move like a ninja!? Either way, Emet-Selch found himself forcefully shoved back towards and then into his chair, all while Elidibus deliberately was too close for comfort.

“You’re finishing this and if it kills you, or I’ll make your life living hell,” he whispered almost agonisingly lowly in a tone that Emet-Selch really only heard from Hythlodaeus and Persephone when they were trying to tease one another. A cold shudder ran down his spine.

Well.

Elidibus was going to get them all killed. Or at least Emet-Selch.

Once the man was gone he looked over to the next desk; Mitron threw a very short and panicked glance into his direction and then went back to whatever it was that Mitron was doing.

* * *

“I’m almost scared to ask, but given that the entire city includes me… how sure are you this thing’ll run?”

He dragged a hand down his face, taking the mask off and let it clatter to the ground. Hythlodaeus almost jumped out of his skin at that.

Emet-Selch very slowly turned to face his best friend in this forsaken world—it was hard to tell to his sleep-deprived self whether Hythlodaeus caught just how tired he was or not.

“It runs,” he croaked. “Somehow we managed to… spaghetti… code stabilise, works fine… Mhm. Spaghetti.”

“… Yep. You’re going to bed. Now, Hades.”

* * *

Wow.

They managed to look like halfway living beings rather than zombies that dragged themselves back into Elidibus’ hell zone of an office building. Emet-Selch had bemoaned the fact that he looked like a raccoon this morning as he looked in the mirror—Hythlodaeus had only splashed him with cold water and told him to get a move on. Lahabrea’s usual levels of seething seemed through the roof, but if someone who didn’t know the man’s ill temper when he was in a mood like this would have presumed his mood to be neutral. Igeyorhm was quite literally shaking next to him, disgust plain on her face; Emet-Selch had heard her spitting venom about resigning and some very, _very_ unfortunate but hilarious comments about Elidibus’ fetish for white clothing. Mitron had been the one to very quietly and deadpan answer Igeyorhm’s little rant with “White Dickhead Wednesday”, which in turn had sent the entire elevator into howling laughter. Howling laughter that sounded more tired than anything else, honestly.

How precisely they had managed this, it was beyond Emet-Selch. He also didn’t give a shit any longer, frankly—he leaned against Lohgrif, barely able to keep his eyes open. Hythlodaeus had said that he had fallen asleep nearly immediately, woken up after a few hours just in time for midnight dinner, which had apparently consisted of several spoonfuls of soup that Hythlodaeus had very diligently fed Emet-Selch and then tucked him back in. All those nonsense comedies about housemates from hell sounded like a horror movie to Emet-Selch this morning.

He had wanted to see this burn, but instead he had nearly burned. The computer was trash; Pashtarot had called out Elidibus on quite literally endangering not only Emet-Selch’s well-being but also everyone else’s. And the code, most importantly. That had made their boss from hell reconsider. But hey, they were done. They were done and they would likely all stumble over to Persephone’s apartment to tell them that they had been right.

Whatever grand speech Elidibus was holding, no one was listening. Hells, even Nabriales seemed more interested in the pigeons on the windowsill. _Nabriales._

Emet-Selch admittedly even missed the damned thing going live. For a splendid minute, silence. Elidibus even looked pleased. The Zodiark system worked—Lahabrea logged in _fine._ Amazing.

Then the splendid minute passed. Elidibus’ smug aura remained, but Emet-Selch noticed that Lahabrea very, very deeply inhaled and weighed his options. Not a good sign, not a good sign at all. Everyone else also shifted slightly, aware of Lahabrea having bad news.

Then, slowly but steadily, an almost deranged-looking smile spread across Lahabrea’s features. The eyes behind the mask looked feverish and his voice was unnaturally shrill when he started speaking.

“Well, a user named Hydaelyn seems to be corrupting the database from the inside!”

A long, drawn-out pause. One could almost see the gears grinding in Elidibus’ head as he processed what Lahabrea had just said.

Emet-Selch also had the gears grind, but for a significantly shorter time. A user named Hydaelyn. User named….

_Persephone._

He dropped the file he was holding and _booked it._ All hell broke loose immediately behind him, with several attempting to flee after him—but Emet-Selch was not a team player. Elidibus was screeching and giving orders, and Emet-Selch shot a wide panicked smile at Lohgrif when the elevator doors slid shut.

With his descent begun, the hellish noise subsided and as he ran out into the streets he knew that he was _dead_ the next time any of them saw him. He definitely needed a new job. New friends. New place to stay. The coast was lovely this time of the year, his panicked mind figured, and Hythlodaeus had family he was close to there. Maybe he could cook up a lie about wanting a long vacation and they could lie about being a couple again to get a discount or something. Yes, that sounded marvellous. But first he needed to talk to Persephone—he skidded to a screeching halt outside their door and started banging his hands against it.

The door actually opened.

Persephone stood there a perfect mirror of the way he looked—deep shadows under their eyes, the hair a complete mess, paler than usual. Unlike him however they were in a bathing robe, a glass of wine in their hands and a very smug smile that rivalled Elidibus’ earlier smile.

“What the _fuck.”_

“I see you liked my little present.”

“What the absolute hell and _fuck._”

They shrugged. “A little… retribution.”

“You made a program that—“

“Was supposed to do the exact same thing as yours. From scratch. On my own. Alas, with you guys messing yours to perfection and mine admittedly being kind of shoddy as well, it seems that rather than being the centrepiece of a network, they’re trying to eliminate each other now. Wanna bet on the winner? The supreme centrepiece to end the other centrepiece? My money’s on Hydaelyn. Biased, I know, but my spaghetti code's worlds better than all thirteen of yours'.”

He blinked a few times.

Then decided to turn around without saying anything and walking towards his place.

No, wait.

He did stop for a moment and looked over his shoulder. “I’m taking you out of my will, because Elidibus will blame this on me and will have me flayed alive. Thanks a bunch, hon.”

“Any time!”

Nope. Nope, nope, nope. He was dead. He should have left with Persephone back then. Then he’d be drinking wine and would not be unlocking the door to tell Hythlodaeus he would likely be executed for computer crimes soon and therefore needed to get out. Elidibus was going to assassinate Persephone in any case, but first it would be Emet-Selch’s turn. It was always his turn first.

Damned computers. Damned code. Damned Persephone.

Damned Hythlodaeus not even looking up from his book while saying “It backfired, didn’t it”.


End file.
